


In which there is a one night stand

by alamerysl



Series: Unfinished Dragon Age Snippets [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Humor, One Night Stands, Pining, Snippets, This is ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 02:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12878055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamerysl/pseuds/alamerysl
Summary: Female Trevelyan and Solas have a one night stand.A snippet I found saved and was encouraged to post.





	In which there is a one night stand

Dorian relished waking up without an exceedingly painful hangover while watching his companions stumble into the dining hall in various forms of discomfort. Even Vivienne, usually so polished and put together, was sporting notable bags under her eyes and nursing a cup of the swill the kitchen staff jokingly called coffee.

He debated whether sending a smug smirk in her direction would constitute open warfare, but thankfully, he never had the chance to find out because Evelyn Trevelyan plopped herself down on the seat across from him.

“Dorian,” she croaked.

He wordlessly handed over his half-drunken mug of coffee. Evelyn took it with a grunt – of thanks, Dorian decided to interpret – and finished it off without pause.

“Dorian,” she said, voice still rough but sounding much less like she had beaten the Iron Bull in a drinking contest the night before. “Have you ever made ill-advised decisions regarding bed partners under the influence of alcohol and woke up the next morning in a state of deep regret and utter self-loathing?”

“Did you sleep with the Iron Bull?!” Dorian whispered loudly, half-mock scandalized and half truly scandalized.

“What? No!” Evelyn spluttered. “Why-“

“He was eyeing you like a particularly dangerous fire-breathing dragon last night?”

“Was he? I don’t think I noticed,” Evelyn said, surprised. 

“After you bested him by drinking him under the table, the two of you drunkenly stumbled outside together and that was the last I saw of you,” Dorian explained.

“Sleeping with Bull? That would be, well, weird,” Evelyn said slowly. “And strangely hot. And probably a better choice of bed partner.”

“So who did you share a passionate night of tender love-making?” Dorian asked. He was truly curious, after all. His best friend was remarkably oblivious when it came to romantic overtures, what with Cullen’s endearing puppy act going completely over her had along with Bull’s less than subtle lewd suggestions.

Evelyn mumbled something under her breath.

“Sorry, my dear, I couldn’t quite catch that.”

“Solas, ok?” Evelyn whispered heatedly. “I slept with Solas!”

“What.”

Dorian’s mind stuttered to a halt. Of all names she could have spit out, it was the only one Dorian would never have guessed. The Inquisition’s resident elven apostate mage was a fount of snark and insults and obscure, arcane knowledge that only a few found interesting. He was also undeniably powerful – much more powerful than Dorian, he thought ruefully – and incredibly helpful. Solas was many things, but Dorian had never ever even considered him as a possible sexual being.

“Solas? The bald grumpy elf hermit who lives in the library?”

“How many elves named Solas do you know?” Evelyn rolled her eyes and nibbled on a piece of bread from Dorian’s plate.

“Solas?” Dorian repeated. “The man who walks gleefully into the Fade without fear and condescends to anyone he talks to, that Solas?”

Evelyn glared at her decidedly unhelpful friend and pointedly took another piece of bread from Dorian’s plate.

“Really? Solas?” Dorian couldn’t help but repeat once more in sheer disbelief.

“Yes, Solas.” Evelyn looked up when Dorian remained silent. “Have I actually rendered you speechless?”

“A bit, yes. Just let me take a moment to process this.”

“By all means, take all the time you want,” Evelyn said sarcastically.

“How?”

“How did I end up getting fucked into ecstasy by Solas, or how do a male and female have sex?”

“Evie,” Dorian sighed. “That is already more than I ever want to know about your poor taste in bed partners. And yet I am also utterly intrigued. What happened between you and Bull stumbling out the tavern to you ending up in Solas’ bed?”

Evelyn smiled sheepishly. “I’m not sure, actually,” she admitted. “I was pretty drunk. Bull might know, but you know how he is with hangovers. He’s probably running Krem ragged with all of his demands right now.”

“So you have no idea how this, this,” Dorian gestured in the air, “encounter actually happened? What led up to it?”

“You make it sound so dirty and sordid. I need more coffee and food if I’m going to tell you all the embarrassing details I can remember.”

“I am but your most devoted friend, my dear Inquisitor,” Dorian stood up with a flourish. 

“No orange juice this time!”

“I live to serve.”

A few minutes later, Dorian was back with two overflowing plates of food precariously balanced on top of each other.

“Have I earned the right to know the details of your secret affair now that I’ve fed and watered you?”

“I only remember bits and pieces of last night,” Evelyn began. “I vaguely remember carrying Bull up the stairs and putting him to bed. And then Solas apparently caught me leaving Bull’s room and gave me his best disappointed-in-you glower.

“And in my drunken state, I sort of took it as a challenge and ended up propositioning him. I’m not sure what I did to successfully seduce him, but whatever it is, it worked. And then we had sex. And passed out. And woke up to one of the most awkward morning-afters in the history of Thedas.”

“How was it?” Dorian asked.

“From what I remember of it? Incredible,” Evelyn said with a filthy grin that faded into a grimace. “But like I said, the morning was incredibly awkward…”

“Oh?”

“Well, that might partially be due to me trying my best to sneak out while he was still sleeping and ending up waking him up because I tripped over his damned tunic,” Evelyn admitted.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

_“So, that happened,” Evelyn said, fidgeting with the tears in her outfit._

_“Er, yes,” Solas responded, the thin blanket doing little to hide his body from her._

_“I’m going to go clean up,” she blurted out._

_Solas looked her over, from her disheveled hair to her ripped top that no longer had buttons to the hints of bruises and scratches on her body, and flushed a brilliant red._

_“Good idea,” he mumbled._

_“Um, see you later?” And with that eloquent message, Evelyn fled for her quarters._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Wait, so you had excellent sex, albeit with a surprising partner, but excellent sex nonetheless. And then you ran away.” Dorian deadpanned.

“I didn’t run away,” Evelyn protested. “I made a strategic retreat in the face of uncertainty. Oh, alright, I ran away.”

Dorian patted her on the head condescendingly.

“How am I going to look him in the eyes now?” Evelyn said, suddenly worried. “It’s going to be so weird now. Why couldn’t I have had a one-night stand with a scout or one of Cullen’s soldiers or something? Why did it have to be a friend?

“I make the worst choices when I’m drunk,” she said morosely into the table.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

I slept with a human. A shemlen. I, Fen’harel, the Dread Wolf, the so-called Trickster and Betrayer and villain to the Dalish, slept with a human mage female.

And it was the best night of my life.

Solas had bathed himself and cleaned the room not long after Evelyn fled from his presence. And when there was nothing left to distract him, his thoughts turned to the Inquisitor, Evelyn Trevelyan.

She had been drunk when she propositioned him. Solas knew it and still let himself be swayed by her. He had been unaccountably irritated to catch her sneaking out of Bull’s room, and his tongue had been sharper with her as a result.

Months of careful distance undone in one moment. The moment he had laid eyes on her, he had known that she would be dangerous to him. To his plans. A human slip of a woman with magic that beckoned to him, so powerful it was as if he had been transported back in time to before the fall of his People, with steel in her spine and fire in her soul.

The mark on her hand would probably have killed anyone else, but his magic had apparently taken quite a liking to her. If the prisoner had been an elf, it would have been more understandable. Within the pitiful city elves and the arrogant, prideful, pathetic Dalish, there were unpolished gems. But in the end, the one who had stumbled into his power had not been an elf, but a human.

And she took to his power as if it were innately hers. His magic had left its mark on her and would never let her go. 

Solas had vacillated between indignation and helpless longing over a human with Fen’harel’s power and finally settled for resigned exuberance. It wasn’t a complete loss. With an elf, Solas would need to watch his every move, but with Evelyn, he would not face suspicion if he were to act more like himself.

And so he did. She came to him for knowledge, eager to learn and more open a mind than he had encountered from his disastrous meetings with the Dalish. She was impressed but not awed, and unafraid to argue or criticize. With her, he had found a friend he could respect, one he could trust, at least to a certain extent.

Solas knew he was lonely. He hated it but he walked the Din’Anshiral alone, to atone for his sins. But Evelyn somehow became real, bursting with vibrancy and life. He could not shut his eyes and pretend that this shemlen was but a shadow taking the rightful place of an elf. And once she had created that chink in his armor, there was no stopping everything else from flooding in and turning into a reality he had done his best to deny.

How could he justify destroying the world as it had become when from its corrupted, tainted depths came someone like Evelyn? And truthfully, it was not just her. There was Dorian Pavus. There was Cassandra Pentahgrast. There was Varric Tethras. Vivienne the First Enchanter. The Hero of Ferelden, who was the only other shemlen to ever give the Dread Wolf doubt and cause to alter his path.

Would it be worth it? To tear apart the Veil he had erected in order to make his People the rightful rulers over the land? What would happen to people like Evelyn, his vhenan, if he were to restore Thedas to its rightful glory?

He could not do it. Despite seeing firsthand the stench of the Alienages, the struggles of the Dalish for everyday survival, despite the fact that magic had somehow become anathema and dirty, Fen’Harel could in no way justify destroying Evelyn.

This was what he had been so afraid of. His heart was his weakness, Elgar’nan had once cautioned him. “Guard your heart, and you guard yourself.”


End file.
